


Nine and Three-Quarters

by whatthefoucault



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (But It's A Nice One I Promise), A Single Reference To Avengers: Infinity War, England - Freeform, Frostmaster Week 2018, King's Cross Station, London, M/M, Magic, Platform 9 3/4, Scotland, Tourists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: "I don't get it, stardust," puzzled the Grandmaster.  "It was supposed to be right here.  Between Platforms 9 and 10."





	Nine and Three-Quarters

**Author's Note:**

> Frostmaster Week 2018, Day Six: Magic
> 
> [Illustrated on tumblr here](http://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com/post/175757735496/frostmaster-week-2018-day-six-magic-i-dont).

"I don't get it, stardust," puzzled the Grandmaster. "It was supposed to be right here. Between Platforms 9 and 10."

The station was a jumble of semi-intelligible announcements, disappointingly small shops, bewildered tourists, stressed commuters, and an inexplicable but beautifully purple-illuminated ceiling. The Grandmaster would have to see about having one of those installed in their apartment, he thought.

"All I see is a gaggle of idiot tourists in matching scarves," shrugged Loki. "You know that film we watched wasn't a documentary, don't you? I mean, what kind of pathetic excuse for a sorcerer needs to use a stick to do magic?"

"You mean there definitely isn't a train that goes to wizard town?" the Grandmaster could not hide his dejection. He had simply thought it might be nice to spend some time among kindred spirits, find himself and Loki to be naturally superior to all of them of course, and make raucous love in their cozy hotel room while high on the ego boost. "Aww, pretzels."

Loki rested his hand against the small of the Grandmaster's back, his presence comforting, grounding. The Grandmaster purred softly.

"I'm sure we can find something else to do somewhere in this country," Loki assured him. "Sights to see, places to go, luxury five-star hotels to con our way into the bridal suites of..."

"Okay, but how about this," suggested the Grandmaster. "It may not be sorcery, but I hear there are places in Scotland that'll, uhh, see, what they do, apparently, is they'll take a kebab and uhh, they'll deep-fry it."

The Grandmaster waggled his eyebrows seductively.

"There are definitely trains to actual Scotland from here," reasoned Loki, taking the Grandmaster's arm. "Shall we?"

"Do we get the train, or do we fly?"

"I could teleport us, theoretically," said Loki, "but we did already buy sandwiches."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a combination of recent travel via London King's Cross (and the mahoosive queue of Potter fans getting selfies with the famous platform) and the fact that I got an email from a retailer of fashionable menswear today and they have for sale a shirt printed with a pattern of little shirts. A shirt shirt. You can't tell me Jeff wouldn't wear it.
> 
> Hope you liked this! Feel free to like and subscribe, leave a comment below, and/or [come say hello on tumblr](http://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com)!


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